Stranger in the Tunnel
by Miranda Highlander
Summary: She's an incredible agent of stealth and strategy, playing her part in WWII. Her past is from our future, a time she hopes to return to someday. It's 1944, she's headed for Stalag 13, specifically the Underground base running there. Her mission: to free the POW camp by the time the ally line reaches them. She will complete it, even if it means keeping secrets from her friends.


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 ***I do not own the characters of Hogan's Heros.***

 **(Rated T due to some mentions of blood or more severe injuries. No vulgar language!)**

Mid-September, 1944

I stumbled as I reached the stump, crouching beside it. Several splinters made their unwelcome home under my nails as my fingers expertly but hurriedly felt for the seam in the old stump. I could hear german shepherds barking less than 20 yards to my rear-right ... _or was it my left?_ A ringing in my ears was preventing me from thinking clearly. _C'mon...where is the latch? I know it's right around...there!_ My middle finger slipped into a narrow, almost unnoticeable gap in the wood as the latch gave. Using my good shoulder and arm I managed to heave up the lid to reveal an entrance. I could hear the soldiers more clearly now, shouting from three sides. Rifle fire continued sporadically as they neared, one shot skipping off the bark of a tree just above my head. I took one quick glance at the infinite blackness below and swung, practically jumped, feet first into the tunnel, somehow pulling the lid shut silently behind me.

I scrambled for a grip as I slid down the hole, scraping the walls with my feet and forearms as I tried to slow my descent. The skin on my elbows and palms was torn against the gravel walls. I began counting the seconds. Suddenly my right hand caught a wooden stud of some sort, and I scraped down a few more feet before fully grasping the ladder and gaining my footing. _Of course there'd be a ladder... dear Lord, how'd I miss that? I'm really not on top of my game right now._ My eyes adjusted as I caught my breath.

I was near the bottom, I could just barely make out a dirt floor less than 8 feet below me. I hadn't made much noise but I silently hoped the falling debris created from my entrance hadn't attracted any attention. I knew from the dim lighting and slight breeze that there were people in a connecting tunnel, if not nearby. I made it the rest of the way down the ladder without incident. With my feet planted on the floor, I turned to let go of the ladder when my knees failed me.

...

I stared up the ladder now, my head resting against something solid. The wall behind me seemed to go up into oblivion. _I must have skidded down 30 feet. That's a lot of earth above my head._ It was getting hard to breathe, and the pain down my left side that I'd been ignoring was starting to flare. I closed my eyes briefly, then opened them to inspect my most persistent wounds.

 _That guard in the woods got really lucky with his pistol,_ he had looked like he might drop it he had been shaking so hard. _You shouldn't have let him see you, it's lucky shots like this that can get you killed._ I mentally berated myself, fingering the new hole in the side of my _[favorite]_ black shirt before tearing it wider. This one I would take care of first, before my shoulder. I was pretty sure the bullet had ricocheted off the top of my right clavicle and clean through the trapezius muscle. It didn't hurt half as bad as when I set my own separated shoulder in the mud last June. _Still, twice in one night; that's rough, even by my standards. And there were more patrols than I predicted. I wonder what's up._

I stored this information away for later. I was trying to stop the blood flow from the wound in my side, but it wasn't clotting as fast as it should. _It's pretty deep. And I don't feel an exit wound._ I shifted my weight to feel around my side to be sure. _gah!_ I inhaled sharply. _Ok, not doing that again._ I slouched further into the shadow of the wall at the base of the ladder as I breathed through a new searing kind of pain the twisting motion had caused.

It could have been half an hour when I became aware of what sounded like footsteps getting louder. _I must have dozed off!_ All my instincts were screaming. _Get up! You need to disappear!_ The tread of the person in the tunnel came with the scent of coffee. I looked up just in time to see the coffee cup fall with a clatter as a pistol was aimed at me. _Again...?_

HH-HH-HH-HH-HH-HH-HH-HH-HH-HH-HH-HH-HH-HH-HH-HH-HH-HH-HH-HH-HH-HH-HH

"No need to sound the alarm Colonel, I'm not gonna hurt anything." I said with as much nonchalance as I could muster, my voice still wavering. _Except for maybe the wall from my trip down_. I knew he didn't know me. I glanced at the loose gravel around me and a wince escaped me as the pain in my side grew. After only an instance of hesitation, the man recognized my accent and noticed my state, and next was kneeling in front of me holding his handkerchief firmly against my abdomen. The pain was suffocating, but his hand felt warm and strong. I heard shouts for familiar names through the fog as I let the darkness absorb me. _...just for a moment, I'm among friends, I can rest._

...

 **Author's note: Did you notice some of the foreshadowing I added for future flashbacks? Chapter 2 is already in progress, let me know what points you like and want to read more about. Thanks for reading!**


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